


Souvenir

by Greysgate



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gay For You, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 15:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14696577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greysgate/pseuds/Greysgate
Summary: At Jack's retirement party, he finds a perfect way to tell everyone how he feels about Daniel without saying a word.





	Souvenir

The day Jack turned in his retirement papers, he invited Daniel over to celebrate.  He really didn’t have an ulterior motive; at least, that’s what he told himself. 

Things happened.  There was dinner.  There was chess.  There was wine. 

Apparently, Daniel wasn’t ready to let him go quietly.  The retirement wouldn’t be official for another week or so, but it was close enough to make all the difference in the world.  Sitting across the chessboard from Daniel, Jack let down his guard, looking deep into his best friend’s eyes.  The lights were on in those beautiful blue orbs, and suddenly, Jack was home. 

At that exact moment, the ulterior motive Jack had told himself he didn’t have insisted on being recognized, raising its hard little head. 

Then there was sex.  Clumsy, uncoordinated, messy, mind-blowing sex.  

Jack hadn’t known anything like it was even possible; he was hooked.  Daniel didn’t go home that night; they talked, making plans, and had more incredible sex. 

That was the beginning of the rest of their lives, and it was all looking pretty damned good from where Jack stood. 

 

* * *

 

Two days later, as he was rearranging some things in his bedroom, Jack found an old T-shirt shoved in the back of a drawer.  He remembered Sara buying it for him one year, when they’d gone to Wyoming on vacation.  He held it up, looking it all over, and noticed that, although it was pretty old, there weren’t any holes in it, and no stains or other real signs of wear, since he’d worn it all of once. 

Jack stood there staring at the shirt in his hands, smiling and deep in thought. 

This was going to be his favorite shirt now.

 

* * *

 

The retirement party his friends threw him in Daniel’s back yard a few weeks later was a casual affair, because Jack was a simple guy.  He chose to wear the souvenir shirt, newly washed and fresh looking, along with his favorite pair of khaki cargo shorts, and his feet clad in his old, worn Birkies.  From the moment Jack arrived, eyebrows were raised, and some folks even laughed and pointed.  The scuttlebutt traveled far faster through the crowd than Jack could.  

Daniel’s face was beet red by the time Jack found his host near the grill.  

Ooops!  

The news had preceded Jack’s arrival at his side, and there was a distinctly murderous gleam in Daniel’s eyes.  

His gaze dropped to Jack’s chest; seeking confirmation, no doubt. 

He read the shirt’s message. 

He was not pleased.  “I don't think that's funny,” said Daniel. 

“What?” Jack could do innocent. 

Daniel pointed to Jack’s chest.  “ _That_.  Is it just for shock value, or what?” 

Jack’s eyebrows lifted in mock naiveté.  “I don’t know what you mean.  I got this shirt on vacation, back in the Stone Age.  What’s the problem?” 

“Have you read what it _says?”_ Daniel demanded tightly, tearing his gaze away, looking at the hot dogs on the grill instead.  He licked his lips.  Dimples flared as he clenched his teeth. 

“Why, yes,” said Jack nonchalantly.  “It says--”  He looked down at his chest and read the words, upside down to his view.  _“Excitement.  Adventure.  History.  Rugged Beauty.  I’ve been to Jackson Hole.”_

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting such a public outting,” Daniel murmured to the sizzling meat. 

It occurred to Jack to make a pun about their being outside and in public, after all, but he quickly thought better of it.  “Everyone’ll just think it’s a joke,” he said quietly, moving closer, “which is what I was going for in the first place.  But I’ve been there, in more ways than one, and I’ve got the T-shirt to prove it.”  He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his shorts.  “I just wanted the world to know.”  He tilted his head and peered anxiously into Daniel’s face, willing him to understand.  “Y’know?”  Thank God, Daniel glanced at him, his hard gaze softening somewhat, and Jack continued, “We’ll come out for real whenever you’re ready.” 

“Let me get my resignation in, okay?” Daniel whispered, glancing about nervously.  “We’ll run away together or something.” 

“Anywhere you wanna go, Danny, I’m there.” 

“Thanks, Jack.”  He took one last glance at the shirt and decided to let go of his ire.  “So, did you enjoy the trip?”  

Jack grinned, his heart so full it almost hurt.  “Best place I’ve ever been.  I plan on going back there often.” 

“I hear Wyoming’s nice,” Daniel agreed, his soft smile filled with double-entendre. 

Jack looked into those gorgeous, adoring, azure eyes, so quick to forgive any hurt.  “Most beautiful place there is.” 

“Better than Minnesota?” 

Jack nodded, wishing he could lean over and kiss those soft, sensitive lips.  Maybe in a few more days, when the SGC was behind them both, he’d be able to kiss his lover in public.  “The best,” he murmured happily.  Then louder, for the benefit of their audience, who’d been keeping a respectful distance from a possibly combustible situation, Jack said, “Wyoming -- where the men are men, and the sheep are scared.” 

As a ripple of laugher passed through the crowd, everyone decided the moment of danger had passed, so they started wandering closer to their host and the guest of honor. 

Daniel turned around to fetch a plate from the table behind him, preparing to take the cooked meat from the grill to serve to his guests. 

That was when Jack got a look at the back of Daniel’s pink muscle shirt. 

A red hibiscus design anchored the left corner.  Swirling above that was a blue stylized wave, symbol of a famous surfing gear company.  The company logo was emblazoned beneath the wave, and in smaller letters, the word “Oahu” gave the location where the shirt had been bought. 

It was the company name that made Jack laugh out loud, because Daniel was wearing Jack’s mark on him for all to see, and likely didn’t even know it. 

The surfing gear company was _O’Neill._ Two L’s and everything. 

“What?” asked Daniel, turning around at the sound of Jack’s guffaw. 

“Daniel, who gave you that shirt?” he asked.  “I mean, I know we said vacation clothes were the order of the day, with Hawaiian shirts if you’ve got ‘em, but I know you’d _never_ buy a shirt like that on your own.  Who set you up?” 

“I bought this years ago, in Hawaii,” Daniel returned, a sly gleam in his eyes.  His eyebrows lifted.  “It’s been my favorite shirt forever.  I usually wear it to sleep in, if you must know.” 

That brought Jack up short.  Did Daniel mean what he thought he meant, that he’d wanted to belong to Jack for a long time?  “Years ago?” he asked, his voice barely audible, where only Daniel could hear him.  “How many?” 

Daniel’s only answer was an enigmatic smile as he returned to his duties at the grill. 

Jack decided he’d get the information out of his lover later, when they didn’t have an audience.  For now, their souvenir shirts would silently proclaim them as lovers, and as soon as Daniel was done with the SGC, they’d come out publicly and hit the road for someplace where they could be accepted as a couple.  San Fran, maybe, or Boston. 

Let everyone think the shirts were some kind of a joke; they’d all find out the truth soon enough, which was something Jack relished getting done.  He and Daniel had given enough of their lives to their world, and it was time they had a future of their own, as a couple, as they were meant to be. 

History seemed to bear that out, by way of the prophetic souvenir shirts they’d each held onto for so long. 

_What sweet irony_ , Jack thought – nature conspiring to tell them they were meant for each other, and it had taken a Stargate, adventure, danger and a lot of dying for them to get a clue.  Now that they had, they were cashing in their chips while they could still spend them, and Jack had marriage in mind. 

He hoped that was okay with Daniel, but if not, Jack would buy him every piece of clothing that surfing company produced, or maybe he’d have every shirt and every pair of pants Daniel owned monogrammed with the “O’Neill” name, so everyone would know he was taken. 

For the moment, the pink shirt would do just fine. 

FIN


End file.
